


Scarred Souls

by jericho



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:47:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jericho/pseuds/jericho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC and Justin escape and spend the night in a place where they shouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarred Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2000

The sign next to the sculpture park said "No camping. No after hours visiting." But Justin had never been very good at following instructions. 

They had one night away from the rest of the world. One night without the group, or the usual throng of management and stylists who followed them around. They brought the least competent body guard with them, knowing he'd get lost in his book and not even notice when Justin and JC sneaked out the door. 

Ellicottville was close enough to Buffalo to get there in two hours or less, and still far enough away that the streets were only two lanes and the stores had been owned by the same families for generations. On the long, winding road through the mountains Justin had spotted a sign that said "Griffis Sculpture Park," and he just had to see it. 

Justin had probably pictured the same thing JC did - a huge, sprawling lawn that overlooked the valley, peppered with ornate marble and stone statues of gods and warriors. But when they hiked up there in the daylight, the figures they met looked like they had been carved out of scrap metal. There was a woman with jagged, protruding hips and a giant, sharp-looking bosom. There was a half duck, half rhinoceros type sculpture. None of them made sense, and all of them looked like they'd weathered a few blizzards and acid rain storms, with scrapes and scratches on them like they'd been the victims of nails or claws. 

"This isn't what I thought it was going to be," Justin said as they hiked through the woods, passing a sculpture of a T-Rex. "It's kind of...creepy." 

JC hiked behind him, watching Justin's T-shirt slide up on his back a little. Justin's pants were slung low on his hips, riding down his narrow waist. JC just wanted to grab them and tug them off. 

They stepped out of the forest and onto the hillside, where they could shade their eyes from the sun and see more sculptures stretch across the grass. To the right of them was the view - Cattaraugus County peeking over the trees, a gently sloping mountain in the distance, the scenery different shades of green and brown thrown together like a patchwork quilt. 

"Great view," JC said. 

Justin dropped his hand to his side. "We should sleep here tonight." 

"Justin, no." 

Justin didn't seem to hear him. "Seriously. Wouldn't it be cool?" 

JC waved his hand in the direction where he'd seen the "no camping" sign. "But we can't." 

"Oh, like this place has a security guard. No one will even know." 

A warm breeze hit JC's face as he grimaced. There was no way in hell he was sleeping there tonight. Justin may have gotten his way with everything else, but JC couldn't be talked into every spur-of-the-moment idea that flashed through Justin's mind. 

Two hours later they were buying sleeping bags from Ellicottville's only supply shop. Justin grabbed armfuls of other stuff they'd never need - a water canteen, a hideously overpriced propane burner for cooking. JC got a kick out of watching Justin weave his way through the rest of the customers, stopping at a shelf, biting his cheek in deep thought and then grabbing something else. 

"We're never going to need all that shit," JC said. 

"Hey, when else do we have a chance to get this stuff?" Justin asked. 

"When else would you need it?" 

Justin ignored him, walking up and dropping his stuff on the counter. The old store owner was hobbling around near the back. 

Justin rang the bell, which made a loud "ding!" JC cringed, wanting to grab Justin's hand and prevent him from doing it again. 

Justin took his gold card out of his wallet and set it on the counter with a little snapping noise. The store owner teetered over and started ringing in everything. 

"Hey," Justin said to the guy, "how come you're not allowed to camp at the sculpture park?" 

"I don't know why you'd want to," the owner said, and he had one of those token grandfather voices. "There's a weird element up there." 

"Weird element? What the hell does that mean?" 

JC gritted his teeth, silently begging Justin not to pull attitude with the townsfolk, but the old guy didn't seem to notice the edge of impatience in Justin's voice. 

"Ever been up there?" the old guy asked. 

"Yeah," JC cut in. "We went up today." 

"Anyone who ever spends the night up there disappears." 

Justin and JC were quiet for a moment, watching the old guy ring in the stuff. Then Justin laughed. "You're kidding." 

"Well, no, I'm not," the guy said wistfully. "Mary Fields disappeared up there about 20 years ago. Went up to fool around with her boyfriend and just disappeared." 

"Maybe her boyfriend killed her," Justin replied. 

"No, he didn't. He lives on Washington Street." 

JC smiled at the floor. 

"So they never found her body?" Justin asked, and JC noticed the edge of excitement in his voice. 

"No. But everyone says she still wanders around up there at night." 

JC cleared his throat. "Dead or alive?" 

"Neither," the guy said, and JC realized he was really enjoying telling this story. "It's a graveyard for broken souls, they say. So I wouldn't go up there if I were you." 

"We're not," Justin said quickly. "We were just wondering." 

They left the store and walked into the sunlight again, JC carrying half of Justin's loot. "He couldn't have killed her," Justin mumbled. "He lives on Washington Street." They giggled a little. 

"So it's haunted," JC said. "You still want to go?" 

"Fucking right. I definitely want to go now." 

"But why? We could just hang around down here. Get drunk." 

Justin stopped and stepped closer to JC, his eyes gleaming. "JC. Are you _scared_?" 

"No. It's just...it's a stupid idea. I would rather not spend my night sleeping on the grass in the middle of nowhere, that's all. I mean, what if it rains?" 

Justin leaned in closer, grinning slyly at him. "It won't rain." 

"Oh, so now you're the weather man, too." 

"JC, just quit being a bitch. Come on." 

They had dinner at a restaurant tucked into one of the buildings that reminded JC of gingerbread houses. They hadn't been recognized much - just a couple of autographs and one picture they'd posed for near the post office. Ellicottville seemed to be 10 years behind the rest of the world. JC wondered if they even had cable TV. 

The sun slipped behind the clouds, making its steady descent toward the horizon. They walked back to the bed and breakfast watching the sunset, with its purples and oranges and dark blues like a bruise on the sky. "We'll just grab our sleeping bags," Justin said as they walked up the steps to the door. "He won't even notice." 

"I'll distract him," JC said. "You grab the stuff." 

The security guard was leaned back in his chair, reading a Harry Potter book. He jolted when JC entered the room. "Where have you been?" he asked. "I didn't even know you were gone." 

JC couldn't believe the guard had just admitted that. Normally, that would have been cause for dismissal. "We just went and got something to eat," he said. 

"I should have come with you. You should have told me." 

JC tried to flash his most disarming smile. "No big deal. It'll just be between us." Behind the guard, JC could see Justin shoot through the little hallway with the sleeping bags under his arm, running like he was on hot coals. 

JC nodded toward the door. "We're just going to go sit outside." 

"Okay. Let me know if you go anywhere." 

JC slipped out the door and found Justin running around the side of the house, giggling with every step like the shit disturber he was. "Poor Andy," JC moaned. "He's going to die if we don't come back tonight." 

"Fuck Andy," Justin said, tossing a sleeping bag to JC. "He should pay attention for once." 

JC walked to the sidewalk and looked down the road. "How are we going to get out there?" 

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out the keys to the Jimmy, dangling them from his index finger. "We're going to drive." 

"Oh, you little shit," JC said, but he followed Justin across the grass to the gravel driveway. Justin threw his sleeping bag in the back and hopped in the driver's seat. JC followed suit and got in the other side. 

"Past the star on the right and straight on 'til morning," Justin drawled as he turned the key in the ignition. JC cringed when the engine started, expecting Andy to appear at the door and wave his hands frantically. But they pulled out of the driveway unnoticed and headed down the road. 

Justin drove in true Justin style, zipping around the hairpin curves and holding the steering wheel with a couple of lazy fingers. JC tried to buckle his seatbelt subtly, and tried to look like he was clutching the door handle simply because he liked clutching door handles. The road to the sculpture park was narrow and unassuming, tucked into a mass of thick trees. Justin almost missed the turn and slammed on the brakes, the Jimmy fishtailing in front of a tackle place. 

"Fuck me!" JC gasped, sitting up straight and looking behind him as Justin backed up and turned onto the road. For what was supposed to be a tourist attraction, the sculpture park only had a little blue and white sign that looked like it hadn't been replaced in years. 

The path up to the park was even worse - littered with bumps and pot holes, and giant rocks that made the Jimmy tilt when the wheels rolled over them. The incline was so steep that the engine groaned and muttered. The only house JC saw on the road was a trailer on the right hand side, surrounded by overgrown weeds. Tucked into the weeds was a rusty swing set and a junked-out car. 

"We're not in Kansas anymore," said Justin, full of cliche movie lines. 

"I can see why we hiked here before," JC said. "It's better than driving." 

At the top of the hill was a dirt path that veered to the left. The sky was dark by now, and JC squinted to see where they were going. They drove until they saw the park's abandoned gazebo and Justin killed the engine. 

"Here we are," Justin said. "There's no place like home." 

"What's with you and the Wizard of Oz?" JC said, yanking his sleeping bag out of the back. Justin sensed that it was a rhetorical question and grabbed his sleeping bag, slamming the Jimmy door shut behind him. 

JC hovered near his open door. "Should we lock it?" 

Justin shrugged. "Why not?" 

"Because we might see a ghost and want to make a quick getaway." 

"Yeah, but what if we want to make a getaway and someone's stolen our vehicle?" 

"Good point." JC pressed down on the lock and shut the door. "If we see a ghost, I'm going to run like the wind in a random direction, anyway." 

He rounded the vehicle and came face to face with one of Justin's heart-stopping grins. "Chicken," Justin said. 

JC tried to smile and hoisted his sleeping bag over his shoulder. 

"Bock bock bock...." 

"Justin, cut it out. Let's go." 

Justin jingled the keys. "Do you want to hang onto these?" 

"No. You keep them. Just don't take off anywhere." 

They walked off the path and onto the grass, past the figures of twisted human-like animals and nonsense shapes. JC slowed a little and let Justin lead the way down the grassy slope. They reached the edge of the trees and Justin slam-dunked his sleeping bag on the dry ground. "Here?" 

JC looked around, shivering slightly. "Yeah, why not?" 

Justin grinned. "You're scared." 

"No, I'm not." 

"Yeah, you are." Justin inched closer to him, his hands skirting across JC's hips. "The graveyard of broken souls," he said in an ominous voice, closing the gap between them and brushing JC's lips with his own. 

JC kissed back timidly, trying to slow his heartbeat. He brushed Justin's curls with his fingers, wrapping his other arm tightly around Justin's waist. 

"You're so sexy when you're scared," Justin mumbled, his lips moving against JC's when he talked. JC hated to keep his eyes closed. Hated to stand there in case something came up behind him. There was no way he was going to be able to have sex in this state of half-panic. And that's exactly what Justin wanted to do. 

JC took a step backward. "Let's get set up." He watched the ridge of Justin's spine through his T-shirt as Justin bent over and undid the string on the sleeping bag, then gave the bag a kick so it rolled out into a perfect rectangle. He did it so effortlessly that JC tried to do it himself, and the bag unrolled a fraction of an inch and stayed there. JC sighed and reached down, shaking it out like a sheet. 

They laid down on their backs, facing the gleaming stars. JC felt Justin's hand on his and their fingers laced together. 

"Do you really think there's a ghost up here?" Justin asked. 

JC rolled his head to the side and saw Justin watching him, eyes gleaming, moonlight making his features a mass of sharp, handsome angles. 

"I don't know. Probably not." 

Justin rolled on his stomach, resting his chin on his hands and looking reflectively at the sculptures. "They look really nice in the dark. All silhouettes." 

JC rolled over too, a bit closer to Justin. "Yeah." 

"You can tell which ones are older, because they have more scratches and acid rain stains on them." 

JC stared at the one of the young woman with the jutting hips. "Like scars." 

"Yeah." 

JC looked over at Justin, looking so pure and lovely in that light. Like he didn't have a problem in the world. It was so nice to see that in Justin's expression that JC almost didn't mind being up there. Whatever it takes, JC thought. 

Justin blinked slowly, still looking reflectively at the sculptures. "Let's sleep." 

JC poked Justin's arm, but it was really just an excuse to touch him. "Don't you want to wait for the ghost?" 

"No." Justin rolled toward JC, onto his back, and pulled the sleeping bag over them. They'd unzipped one and spread it out on the ground as a base, and the other was a cover. Justin rested his head on JC's chest, tucking the sleeping bag around them like a warm cocoon. Like they might reemerge as butterflies, JC thought, smiling a little as he held Justin tighter. 

If someone had told JC an hour before that he was going to fall asleep peacefully, holding Justin in his arms, on the grass of a supposedly-haunted sculpture park, JC wouldn't have believed it. But that's exactly what he did, feeling Justin's tense arms around his middle, the soft smell of Justin's hair and the smooth feeling of his skin lulling JC to sleep. 

***

"Do you see it?" 

Justin's voice sounded far away, but JC could hear the hollow boom of awe in it. "See it?" JC looked into the darkness. All the stars were gone, and the trees had vanished, and JC knew he was dreaming. Justin lay next to him, on his stomach again, his eyes sparkling like diamonds and fixed on some point off in the distance. 

JC rolled onto his stomach and saw it. He didn't even have to follow Justin's pointing finger. A woman, too far away to have any distinguishing features but close enough that JC knew it was a woman, with a heavy bosom under her white dress, her hair silver and flowing, even though there was no wind. 

"I'm dreaming," JC mumbled. 

Justin looked at him, eyes alive and dancing madly. "Of course you are." 

JC looked back at the figure. She didn't even seem to notice them. She just walked. Skipped, almost. Like she had navigated the paths around the statues so often that she was a part of them. JC's heart pounded madly in his chest, a steady thread of terror weaving its way down his spine. He could handle seeing a ghost when he was conscious. Then he could react. But in a dream, all bets were off. 

"Of course you're dreaming," Justin said, and then Justin's lips were on his, kissing him deeply. He sucked JC's tongue into his mouth, pulling on it gently, and the fear was replaced with a liquid warmth that spread through his body like spilled blood. 

"Who is she?" JC mumbled. 

"You know," Justin mumbled. "It's gotta be." And the sentence made perfect sense. 

Justin pulled at JC's arm, tugging him over until Justin was sprawled underneath him. "Make love to me," Justin said with a voice like velvet. "Please. I need it so badly." 

JC ran his hand down Justin's side and realized Justin was already naked, his skin a mixture of cool and warmth under JC's fingertips. Justin's fingers played with his zipper and unbuttoned his jeans. He slid JC's shirt over his head in one fluid movement, using his feet to tug JC's pants down his legs. "I need it so badly," he repeated. 

"I know," JC said, brushing Justin's forehead with the palm of his hand. "I'm here." 

There was no need for lube, or blow job preamble. Just JC sliding into Justin in one long stroke. The pleasure was intense. Immediate. Like nothing he'd ever felt. He looked down at Justin and could tell Justin was feeling it too. 

"I love you so much," JC said. Even in a dream, he'd never meant it more. It felt like his heart was cracking with each thrust, the sense of love and protecting Justin so strong that he could barely stand it, and he wanted to scream to shed some of it. 

"Oh God," Justin moaned. The way he arched his back was almost violent. "What's happening?" 

"It's a dream," JC said, still thrusting. The pleasure tingled down his back, gnawed at his muscles and made every thought in his brain fizzle. Justin's sobs echoed through the trees, his fingernails tearing long red trails down JC's back that stung when JC started to sweat. JC leaned down and licked the tears off Justin's cheeks, trembling with a pleasure so intense that he would have stopped if he could. He wondered vaguely when he was going to come, and realized that he'd probably been coming the whole time. And there was no end in sight, just this hybrid of love and sex and pain. He wasn't even sure how long it went on. It was timeless the way dreams always were, and he couldn't grasp a coherent thought until the dream ended and he was sleeping in darkness again. 

***

The sun peeked from behind the clouds and belted JC with light. He opened his eyes and stared straight into it, groaning and squinting until he covered his eyes with his arm. Birds were chattering their way through the trees, and the air was alive with nature sounds - crickets, other insects, a frog somewhere off in the distance. 

He rolled sideways and uncovered his eyes to find an empty spot next to him. The sleeping bag was still indented where Justin had been lying, the material still warm. JC knew Justin was off wandering around somewhere, probably walking through the forest coming up with new lines to use from the Wizard of Oz, or new ways to pull rank on unsuspecting Ellicottville residents. They only had a few hours before they had to be back in Buffalo. Justin would have to work quickly to make a lasting impression. 

The clouds shifted and the sun came out again, painting a long shadow across the sleeping bag. JC frowned and jerked sideways, his breathing turning frantic. He sat up slowly, afraid to turn around, because somewhere in the back of his mind, in a place he didn't even like to think existed, he knew what he was going to see. 

But he did, ever so slowly, and there it was. A new sculpture, this time of a man. The sculpture was lean, with awkward angles and jutting, exaggerated eyes, and a body littered with more scratches and scars than any of the others. 

JC stood up slowly, stumbling over the sleeping bag and catching his balance a few steps later. He desperately wanted Justin to come around the corner so they could talk about how weird this was. But he knew Justin wouldn't. He shifted suddenly and winced, reaching under his shirt until his fingertips found puffy scratches. They were still fresh and seemed to sizzle when JC touched them. 

The tears were hot and immediate, the weight in his chest so heavy that JC wanted to dig in with his fingers and rip it out. He stared at the sculpture, with its exaggerated and jagged eyes. Like diamonds. And then his scream was so loud and shrill that the birds flew away. 

  



End file.
